Myself v1.2

When eveything seems to be going wrong for you, did you ever have that feeling that if given another shot at that time of your life, you could certainly make it better? It is of course in the nature of humans to dream about what could have happened and what he/she ought to have done. Keeping up with this line of thought, intellectual evolution of the human belief system has conjured up an idea, or thought-process if I may, to safeguard the future of an individual strong enough to improve upon his/her shortcomings, and the innate drive of humans to identify and name anything and everything provided this method of self-improvement with a name- 'resolutions'.

Mulling over these lines, I thought, "What better time to make some of my own resolutions than new year's eve?" I really did'nt have to search hard to find my first set of shortcomings. Being a resolutionary greenhorn, I thought of starting small and as personality is gaining more and more importance in the world, I though it would be ideal to fine-tune it first.

Frankly, I have never been an outwardly kind of person. I keep to myself when in the company of strangers and the process of friend-making is a really long process. My pie-hole just clams up in these situations and after a lot of hard work on my part, whatever I manage to utter even fails to qualify as a squeak! On the other side of the coin, once I befriend an individual, I am really hard-pressed to keep my mouth shut. Now news and discussions are okay, but what really keeps me going is a sort of cocktail of goofy, slapstick, friendly, and sarcastic jokes and remarks that runs strong in my family. Though made with the most innocent intentions possible, they sometimes really go over the edge.

So, I guess my new year resolution is 'to speak up when meeting strangers, and then shut up after befriending them'. I know it sounds nutty, but that's it!

Delectable Curses (Chapter-7)

'Oh my God! I can't believe he actually wrote down all we did in his memoirs.'

I am finally moving out and was clearing the place when I stumbled upon these papers. 'Delectable Curses! Man, what was he thinking?' Anyways, since I bargained on for both the good and the bad times, I'll try and continue the legacy he started.

For the readers still scratching their heads, Hi! I am the girl you all have been reading about. I think it's been about seven odd years since the events of the sixth chapter took place so let me just bring you all up to pace a bit.

A couple of months after he brought me into the loop, we got married in a small but sweet ceremony in the local church. I guess he really meant it when he said that he loved me too much to keep me tied to him and that thought kept pricking him in the back of his mind. Other than that, we lived and loved much like any other couple in love. He was so nice in a carefree and yet caring kinda way. I dare say, those were the days when we really lived our lives out.

Of course, modern medical analysis soon caught up to us and his condition started to deteriorate. Initially I tried to fight it and make a stand, but he was content to just let go. "I've had a shot at life and by God, was it a good one!", he used to say. It was a quiet service with just the family in attendance as he didn't want us to create a lot of fuss about it. It was probably the hardest part of my life. I realized that everything loses meaning in such times and all one wants to do is to fade away. Life as it is gets all blurred and mixed up, as if being viewed through smoked glass. As someone once remarked, "death has a curious way of shuffling one's priorities."

Why do people always get so philosophical I will never understand, but I do understand, and will remember what he has taught me. I will take the life Lord has given me and try and make the most out of it. So I have quit my job and am going down under. There I will make a new beginning, not for me but for him, for he used to say, "Never too late to start over again!"

Straight from the heart.

My life changed
the day I first saw you.
I did'nt know it then
and basked away the days
merry and gay
till the day you moved away
taking a part of me with you.

Years passed,
old wounds started to heal
my heart I could again feel
and then we met again
but some things never change
and I fell for you again.
Curse me!
I should've confessed
and opened my heart to you.
God knows I tried,
maybe succeeded once or twice.
to overimpose,
I let it all pass
and you floated away
on the sands of time.

I swore,
never to trust my heart again
and buried these crime scene memories
deep in my personal love garden.
Sometimes my nights were haunted
but at least the days were fine
and O' beautiful friend,
I took your own advice,
tried and am trying
to move on.
I felt better after a very long time
liked your strategy
and took life on
as it was thrown my way
day by day,
mile by mile,
and was quite happy about myself until
you called again!

Why me?
For I finally believe in destiny
and if you feel the way that I do,
then this itself is our destiny.
If not,
don't bother and just let me be.


I dream...
of seas richer than the bluest sapphires
of people dressed in elegant attires
and beautiful birds flying high and low
among bright patches of a spring rainbow.

I wonder...
how freedom tastes to the soul
what it is like to be on your own
if a flightless bird like me could soar
and into someone my heart I could pour.

I wish...
someone would sweep me off my feet
and under the starry sky we both could meet
as to slow music our bodies would sway
and the world could vanish far, far away.

Moi Memoire

That pretty face,
those bright eyes.
That flowery talc,
and sweet smile.

Those hearty laughs,
and playful pouts.
Those naughty giggles,
and dancing brows.

Those stolen glimpses
of hidden treasures,
even awkward moments
I'll cherish forever.

Just stay in my memories
and haunt my dreams,
even joust with my mind
but never come alive.


Have you ever sat alone on the roof in the blue twilight,
looked up towards heavens with moisture-laden eyes,
and wondered if you could ask, just why?

Have you ever locked yourself in your room,
turned on the radio to make some noise,
and screamed away until you forgot why?

Have you ever felt so cold inside,
like whatever you do, you could never again smile
after giving up on your deepest desire?

Have you ever stayed up late at night,
thinking about what might have been, and feeling contrite,
wondering if you could make up for it in the afterlife?

Have you ever been caught off-guard and dewy-eyed,
thinking that tomorrow your loved one might die
without even knowing how you feel inside?



No...........lemme try sumthing else...

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irsnevmrhioes;vmriemslvroimvwrhrwnlhrciewheawd nwcgnwiuaeciua

Hmmm, much better!

Okay! The explanation.

Well frankly I believe I am going nuts. Or rather, my college is driving me nuts.

Rest later!

Shiver me timbers!

The world is changing, and I am a part of it. There be no denying that. The bad is the new good, and the good has become the new bad. There be no right and wrong in this world. What matters is what you do and whom you do it with. Send the morality of things to the gallows and keep it simple. Complications are, by and large, unnecessary and unwanted. Take what you can and give nothing back 'cause loony lummoxes rule the age. Innocence is naught but a hazy memory, a pleasant yet unaccounted for thought, its last vestiges left buried deep inside none but the very ancient bedtime stories. The deranged gimmicks of intellectually warped minds is all that remains. The faint yet warm fingers of true love shine through at random places, fighting a lost battle, from under the ever darkening envelope of lust. Avast! There be nothing left for us to do but weigh anchor, hoist the sails and let the winds of time blow our bones away.

Feathered Friend Revisits

Aloha mates!

So our feathered friend dropped by for a day or two (I hope) and though he/she was a shy bugger, this time I caught some photographic evidence of the apparent generosity of our hearts.

Those needing further insights, click here.

Rosy thoughts

My feet don't need a map as I trace the oft-travelled paths around my home, wake-walking in a perpetual state of melancholy intellectual sleep, pondering over nothing in particular and everything in general. I was in one of these walks, when my thought train was snapped back to reality with a strange sound, a defiant crunch with a definite hint of ever-lasting softness, a sound hardly heard in the humdrum cacophony of city life but yet somehow reverberating throughout the fabric of one's spiritual existance. I glanced down and found a very distraught looking tiny rosebud, its delicate petals yet to open, smothered all over by the grime of city streets.

The corners of my mouth twitched as I remembered the not-so long past 'rose day'. The inherent idea of plundering something so beautiful and serene, just for the inexplicably moronic ordeal of presenting it to a loved one, is fraught with a despicable sense of affection. Though I appreciate the underlying sentiment running in this practice, I would certainly frown my eyes out if every Tom, Dick and Harry got a bunchful just for the sake of it! My heart went out to the innocence this tiny sapling exuded as I pruned the fouled wings.

It is not the rose's fault that its beauty, though paralleled by many others, has come to symbolise a feeling whose roots themself lie in unquestioned affection. To think that someone must have loved it intensely for a day, and then just unceremoniously dumped it into the waste in the morning was simply painful. If only these tiny things had ears and could listen to all the affectionate words being woven around them, even if for a single day, maybe it would have eased their passing on. An article I had read about 'green weddings', wherein these frivolous wastages of nature's beautiful gifts are scorned at, came unbidden to my mind.

If only the world grew wiser!

Mt. Daily Everest

Though I know I can't afford to, yet I sit idle on my bed. My opaque eyes stare intently on a spot right in front of me, perhaps waiting for someone to materialize out of thin air. Apparently the tiny electrical messengers responsible for trans-neuron communication in my body have had enough and called it quits. I imagine the life flowing through me slowly seeping out into the nature from whence it came, mingling merrily with the mother of all existance. I wonder, "Am I brain dead then?"

In response, my brain conjures up random images from fact and fiction. People I've been with scream for attention among the multitudes of fictional characters my mind was forced to toy with for all these years. Actuality catches up with lightning speed and soon I close my eyes, the pain of an unsupervised and overworking mind being just too much for me. Frantically I search for a subject to focus my line of thought on, going from one to another, and ultimately increasing my agony multifold. The thought of the most sought after medicine comes unbidden and I gain a new-found understanding for occasional drinkers.

But its too late in the night, as it always is, for any ammends on that frontier. Now a desperation envelopes me as I blink away the moisture threatening to spill over onto my cheek, and bludgeon the frail mouse button multiple times in hopes of getting a way out of this insanity. Roaming the random streets of the web of all webs, I stumble onwards in a frightening state of stupor, grabbing onto the iota of belief that someone I know may be there somewhere, willing to hear me out, willing to pat my back assuringly and maybe, just maybe grab my hand and rescue me from my own mind.

Serendipity takes me to a social networking site I know to be teeming with familiar faces. "Blasted examinations!", I snigger, "You can keep people offline but you can't erase the traces of their online presence." Some random clicks and punches later, the condition somewhat subsides and I slowly return to my own self. Marvelling about the effect a few familiar faces can have on a bereaved mind, I stumble across a picture which makes me think about what exactly have I become? It admonishes people for sticking their noses where they should not be and calls them losers. Though recuperating, a new seed sprouts in my mind, it races to overkill, and in no time, I am back where I started.

Heaving a sigh, I shudder as the torture sequence starts all over again. I silently acknowledge defeat and reach out for the magic pills ensuring me a baby's sleep. "Yet another day's battle lost, yet another one to come soon." The last thoughts before I drift into an artificially induced yet peaceful reprieve is that whoever said it wasn't joking, that a mind is a dangerous neighbourhood to be in and one should not roam its streets alone.

Me...a rapper?

Okay people, phew, it is, my very first rap song. For those who can't make a head or tail out of it, I suggest some Eminem. For others, read on:


They call me white rabbit.
I write great songs
and people jus wanna have it.
They don't give a shit
who, where or with what
I am hit.
They jus like the songs
that I rap about,
even though I wrap around
all the shit
that gets thrown about.
But time for a flashback now.
You're wrong
if you think you know how,
I came around to rappin
and makin people crowd.
I am a psycho.
Yeah! you thought you knew any better.
One day I got a letter sayin,
"Hey rabbit, it ain't your fault.
Its just this fucked up world
that makes me sick and screws us all.
Am gonna hold your hand,
now am gonna lead the path.
I'll make you famous
and in return,
just make me laugh."
Poor me!
How was I supposed to know
this person was more fucked up
than I could ever be.
that just sounds too lenient;
a word dreamt up by people
who've never known pain beyond a penitence.
Death incarnate sounds like
stealing candy from a kid.
But my shit,
was much more than what all this could ever be.
Reeling in perpetual agony
was my life's only upside.
There never was
and never will be another side.
Chaotic vengeance
is all that I can think about,
when I pause in my path
turn back and look around.
Having this tumour in my head
unleashes the bloodthrirsty me,
the sole compunctionless leader
of this gory army.
It is now at this point
that I have decided
to pull my hands away
and thats why it is in you
that I have confided.
Ladies and gentlemen!
Please stand up and cheer as always
coz I have reached the crescendo
and am gonna solve this.
Please do not leave your seats before the final act,
and the weak of heart
don't follow me to hell if you can.
Now I slip this noose around my neck
and bid you farewell.
Thank you for your patience one last time.
Singning off,
yours truely,
white rabbit.

And um...., a notice: The character 'White Rabbit' is taken from the movie '8 Mile' and the letter mentioned does not, in any way, connect to the one I got recently in real life.


The Night Guest

As is common knowledge to many readers, I reside in a rented house near my college along with some other friends. Now being all students was bad enough, but being all males students, we really don't give a fig about cleanliness and stuff. In fact, I always fancied us as some kind of a spin-off Addams family (Just between you and me, we sort of celebrated the birth of two young ones of the 'friendly neighbourhood' cockroaches that inhabit our washbasin). I guess it has something to do with the deep-seated need to associate ourselves with someone or something popularly recognisable, but whatever.

Now cockroaches, ants, spiders, lizards etc. were kinda okay, not because they were favourite pets of Morticia Addams or something, but because they are argumentatively omnipresent. I mean you can't find a house absolutely free from them! But what really drove the last nail was when I found a live pigeon stylishly perched among the bits and pieces of the mock kitchen we have in here. After a bit of shooing and prodding we concluded that it is either extremely lethergic or is actually unable to fly and as we are not in a state of war with any pigeon state (known or unknown), we have allowed it to retain its current quarters albeit temporarily, as I am sure none of us plans to allow the hitchhiker to litter the place with shit. In such an event, it will immediately be shown the door, or in this case, the roof.

So to conclude ladies and gentlemen, as I write this piece, it has been about three hours since its arrival and our guest is nicely tucked and asleep.

Eyes up here!

While browsing through today's newspaper, the heading of an article really caught my eye. Well, I went through the article and actually found it quite thought-provoking albeit in an irritably de facto kinda way. It went on and on about the most noticed, and hence the most talked about part of the feminine persona in the current society- the cleavage. Males, it argues, are held mesmerised by this small void 6 o' clock to a woman's face. I am not going to contradict this well established notion, nevertheless I would like to toss the 'blame ball' to the other side for a bit.

Is it really our fault? Of course, the words 'fault' and 'blame' are used here in their most non-traditional sense possible. It is actually the way its supposed to be. Do comprehend the catastrophe it would be if males lose all interest whatsoever in females and vice versa. But of course, the point of argument is why does it get so much attention? And the answer to that is ridiculously simple. For starters, since when have males been associated with diligence? The reason cleavage has become the focal point of male limelight is simply because it is the most visually accessible unique part a female possesses. One really does not have to do anything offensive or forceful, but just keep one's eyes open. There are more than enough opportunities to get an eyeful without even breaking a single law. I must say that this prospect appears and actually is quite safer than its alternatives to achieve pleasure.

Another viewpoint worth mentioning, though I am speculating now, is whether females really hate it when our gaze slides down a few inches? Think of it this way. The cleavage is as much a part of the female body as are other parts. And it is beyond argument that females arduously engage in artificial beautification of their bodies. Is it really surprising that cleavage is'nt left behind in this rat race? The growing user base of underwired and push-up bras screams out my point. Every person, irrespective of gender, should be proud of his/her body and unless the male involved is a pervert, there is absolutely no harm, physically, morally or otherwise, in bordering exhibitionist tendencies.

Finally for those of you who puff up in anger or shock over the cheek of this young lad to make a post about this non-existing issue, take a peek at the heading I referred to in the beginning and tell me, just what do you notice?

Never easy to please a tech guy!

Delectable Curses (Chapter-6)

Seeing my turmoil, she visibly tensed up and her lower lip quivered a little as she bit down on it. Forcing a smile upon her beautiful face, she leaned closer and rested her head on my chest. Before I could even think about all the pleasurable sensations her flowing hair were creating on my chest, she burst out into long drawn sobs. All I could think of doing was to pat her back consolingly.

"Why?... Why did you do it?" she wailed.

'Man! I never do good with crying girls. I should'nt have patted her like that.'

Her hazel eyes were streaming with tears when she next looked up at me but what really came as a blow in the face was the intense agony reflected in them. Whoever said that eyes are but a mirror to the heart was indeed right. 'How could I be so naive?' The palm of conscience slapped right across my forehead. 'Of course it's gonna hurt her bad one way or the other! I had been stupidly making decisions for the both of us and she had been paying the price for it.' A wide grin enveloped my face as I thought, 'a good cry succeeded where everything else failed!'.

"Why did you shut me out so abruptly?" Her face was skewed, probably assessing the damage caused by the punch the night before. Emotions overwhelmed me as I reached out and pulled her into an enormous bear hug. Though it took her time to get over the shock, she responded. When we broke apart, there were question marks all over her face but there was also a smile of relief. I looked her right into the eyes and spoke, "because I love you!"

'What?' her face said it all!

"Though it may seem paradoxical, I love you too much to keep you tied to me forever. I was willing to let go so that you could have a better future."

"Better than this?"

'Is she mocking me?' I heaved a heavy sigh before proceeding. 'Okay, here it is. The moment of truth!'

"About a month ago, I was diagnosed with a rare disease." Her hands shot up to cover her gaping mouth as she mouthed the words, 'Oh my God!'. I always find it satirical how people are always willing to assume the worst case scenario, and in a moment's notice blame God for all the injustices in life. Though in my case, I don't know if the worst case is any worse than what it is already. Of course, my case is better in a manner of saying that I will survive. But what is survival? Is it merely being able to breathe? Or is it some higher calling involving the psyche of an individual?

A soft hand caressing my cheek brought me back. "Relax! Its just some recessive genetic thing..." I looked away, trying to locate the right words. Sighing again I turned to her and continued, "...the thing is, my neurons are failing and in about a couple of years' time I would be needing someone to pull the plug on me. Now I am sorry but I won't be able to give you the life..."

The rest of my words were lost in a passionate kiss she had planted on my lips and as if a detonator charge had been set off, intense memories of what happened here the night before came back in a flash. Amidst the pants and the moans she said, " is....we'". Expecting it and yet shocked at what I was hearing, I pulled her back and stared at her.

'God! She is beautiful.'

Her hair were all over the place and her bosom was heaving heavily. She was staring right back at me, daring me to contradict her. I looked into her eyes and finding nothing but understanding and determination there, I gave in and we continued from where we had left the night before.

Delectable Curses (Chapter-5)

Next morning I woke up in my bed. There was'nt a muscle in my body which was'nt crying out in pain against any action forced upon it.

'God! What happened?' I tried recollecting the stray strands of thoughts floating around in my head. I vaguely remembered downing multiple pints of booze, first in anger, then in frustration, and finally due to habit. Multiple simultaneous images of people jumping and screaming all around me exploded in a dazzling array of light flashes inside my head. I groaned as the intense throbbing pain of my head spread all over my body.


I distinctly remembered her face in the melee, not distant, but quite close, too close! I chased the heels of further thoughts as they tunneled deeper and deeper into my brain. Everything was a blur of flesh, light and liquor. My hands flew to test a sore spot on my cheek as memories of being thrown out by the bouncers invaded my vision. But that still did'nt explain my being in bed! Cringing in pain, I tried getting up on my elbow, and momentarily succeeded before crashing down with a muffled thud.

She was there, right besides me, sound asleep! This was too much for me. My vision swam as I turned around and threw up all over my bedside rug...

When I next came to, I could see the sun shining generously throught the half closed curtains. Events came unbidden to my mind as I closed my eyes and prayed for all this to be a dream.

"Bright day, innit?"

My eyes flew wide open as I realised my prayer was left unheard. Searching for the source of the voice, I found her sauntering over to me carrying a steaming hot cup of coffee in one hand and the day's newspaper in the other. Apparently she had been up for quite a while. Hundreds of questions erupted in my mind, all at once! I opened my mouth, but the questions were left jiggling in the back of my throat.

'She is wearing my shirt!'

Giggling sheepishly at my gaping mouth, she sat beside me and thrust the cup into my hands. "What...? And how...?" Was all I could articulate before she planted a kiss on my good cheek and whispered, "Thanks!". Skewing my face, I tried to logic out how in the world I ended up opening Pandora's box of mysteries.

Delectable Curses (Chapter-4)

God must be very keenly interested in my case for I did'nt just get a beer, I got the whole frigging club! That sly girl kept the plans from my knowledge till the very last and kinda shoved them up my nose all at once. Seething with resentment, I joined the group at the proposed venue of aggregation quite past the decided time, both as a gesture of disapproval as well as to avoid waiting for anyone else. I was having this incredible feeling that it was not going to be my day and that was not doing my mood any good. There was just the girl and some guy I did'nt know waiting there. After the cursory introductions, I made it a mission to try and scorch that girl with one of my most vicious stares. At least it kept me from cursing out loud about the lax time standands my generation was following. Surprisingly, not long after my arrival, people started trickling in. Stranger still was the fact that there seemed an annoyingly even mix of males and females in our group. Even as the detective in me was stringing together these clues, the moment I was both dreading and looking forward to arrived.

She had donned the skin-tight denims I had so frequently complimented her on. Complementing them was a simple white poncho of sorts and I must admit the plunging neckline bade me to reconcider the decision I had announced in that coffee shop.

'No! Stop it.' I was appalled at the sudden surge of unbidden thoughts sprouting all over my mind. Thankfully the group had sprung into action and we proceeded towards the destination for the night. When we reached there, all my queries lay answered right in front of me. Shouting at me in a mix of neon blue, green and red were the big letters in plain english 'COUPLES NITE'. Despite myself, I smiled at the sheer cunning and ingenuity of the plan. 'Bravo girls!' How was poor me supposed to know that the master plan was far from over?

As soon as we reached the burly bouncers, our group disbanded into couples with a swiftness that made me wonder just how many times this ritual had been practised before. Had it not been for the entwined hands, I would have thought they were going to the morning prayers. 'Wait a minute...entwined hands! You mean, I would have to be all touchy tonight. Now that's gonna be awkward.' That line of thought simply ripped my moral fabric through the middle- one half egging me on with fairly intimate images of the two of us running in front of my eyes, while the other half playing the gentleman and admonishing me for thinking about using a friend for worldly pleasures while having no real love at heart.

I shook my head vigorously to try to clear out the dilemma. When my eyes came back to focus, I found everybody staring at me as you would stare at a disobedient child. Enraged at having drawn so much attention, I roughly grabbed the only set of vacant female hands in the vicinity and started towards the door. I had barely managed a couple of steps when I caught sight of someone in her skin-tight jeans falling in line ahead of us.

'What the...! now I am seeing her everywhere.'

My whole world came crashing down when I turned to find myself holding the hand of a damsel I just vaguely remember being introduced to. Wave after wave of apprehension crashed upon me as I numbly stumbled onwards, just one thought in mind- 'The only two things which can help me right now, alcohol and loud music, are inside.'

Delectable Curses (Chapter-3)

I was returning home after an excrutiating day at work. I had chosen to walk even though it was quite some distance. 'Some fresh air would do me good.' I had thought. Well it was twice as good as I had expected. My mind had started to clear for the first time in days and towards the end of it I had started to cheer up a bit. Even the chatter of the cicadas felt like a hearty welcome and I scrunched the gravel path in tune with them to produce a crescendo. It was in that jovial moment, when I was merrily joggling in the drizzle holding aloft my arms to let nature take me over, did God decide to punish me for all my sins. For all I know, I could have been crucified to thin air as I stood there confounded. My throat went dry as I watched a pair snog on a nearby park bench. A monstrous voice roared inside me admonishing me for what I had done. What was worse was the knowledge that it was me myself who was to blame for my helplessness. Fate, it seems, diligently seeks out its lowly victims and mocks them in their faces. With utter deliberation I tore my eyes away from the cynosure and moved on. I was still mulling over the event as I turned the final corner and caught sight of one of our mutual friends making a beeline for me.

'Blow number two, c'mon smite me!' I smirked.

We exchanged pleasantries and made some small talk but I could sense the need to discuss some master plans, so I asked her into my apartment. She pounced on the offer hungrily. The rest of the journey went in silence, each of us contemplating our own thoughts.

"Oh my God! Its worse than what I had imagined."

"What?" I jerked back to reality.


I was sure I had heard those words as we had crossed the threshold. Once again I studied her thoroughly and yet again found nothing but raw determination shining back at me. At length, I shrugged it off. 'Maybe I am hearing things now. No. She definitely is looking around the room. Ah well, let's see!'

"So, you wanted to talk about something?"

"What!..Oh yeah, umm....We were wondering if you would come with us to this new place we're checking out this saturday."

"We?" I was getting irritated and suddenly found myself rethinking my decision of bringing her along. 'Why can't they just leave me alone?'

" and some of my friends." She added way too casually.

"Sure." I replied in a manner to make it clear that the conversation was over. 'I have to do this one time or the other. The sooner the better.' I hoped.

"Umm...okay. I'll call you later with the details." And with another furtive glance around the room, she left.

'What are you girls upto?' I slouched over to the couch and threw myself onto it. Something inside me had started to throb painfully and I was having difficulty pinpoining exactly what. 'There's only one way to find out and I'm sure am not gonna like it. God! I need a beer.'

Delectable Curses (Chapter-2)

We are back in the same coffee shop, sitting at the same table, heck she's even wearing the same lavender top. The familiar gut-wrenching feeling takes over me and I look away in the hope of making it easier. Her soft voice calls to me, but it is faint and distant. Something's not right. I look at her and shudder involuntarily as the table between us is stretching beyond what is allowed by the so-called laws of physics. I stare as her outstretched hand slowly becomes the only visible part of her body. "No!" I shout and jump onto the table, running like mad, eyes and ears searching for hints of her presence. Her long, drawn out, ghostly wail is all I can hear and I curse myself for bringing her to this damned place. Suddenly a huge boom stifles her cries for help and my eyes fly wide open.

'Sheesh! Not again.' I shook my head to remove the last traces of the haunting memory and focused my thoughts on the mundane world.


'So that's what woke me up!' I pondered as I stumbled towards the door and flung it open.

"What were you do...?" my friend stopped short and gasped.

"What?" I questioned as my hands groped for the apparently disturbing sight.

'Shit!' My eyes widened as the events of the night before played in front of my eyes. I had had a decibel barrier breaking one-on-one man-on-machine competition. In one corner, the thumping woofers of my top-of-the-range home theatre system and in the other corner, me with my window-shattering drone which I call 'my best attempt at singing'. Of course it had ended in me completely outclassing my opponent. I had fashioned myself an elaborate winner's crown using a hair gel which claimed to be 'extra-strong'. Well, now I know that the gel people were'nt lying.

"That's um.... nothing. C'mon in!" I ushered him into the room, hastily attempting to disentangle my locks. Closing the door I turned to come face-to-face with him, his jaw firmly set and hands on his hips, I groaned as I saw what was coming.

"This has got to stop" he implored exasperatedly.

"What?" I pulled out my most innocent sounding voice but immediately saw my veil of pretence falling to pieces. Determined to make a stand, I drew my shoulders. "Seriously man! I'm fine. My work just takes up most of my time." I could'nt help but smile as I knew I had struck the jackpot. Following the fiasco at the coffee shop I had thrown myself pell-mell into the world of work, and he of all people, had thought that I had finally come to my senses. Whipping around, he dove headlong into the latest at work as a qustion rang in my mind, 'Just how long can I put up like this?'

Delectable Curses (Chapter-1)

"I feel tormented!" I exhaled in a breath. After opaquely studying the daily rigmarole of street traffic my eyes eventually found her, gaping at me from across the table, it was all I could do to stay rooted to the chair. 'There, that was easy', I thought. Now that it was finally out in the open, I felt a sudden urge to get it all out.

'Okay, here goes nothing!'

"You know, there is so much I want to do with you. So much I want us to experience. So much I want to ..." my voice broke off. 'Well this definitely was harder!' I hazarded a peek at her and immediately regretted the decision. She was staring intendly at me with one of those piercing gazes, the ones which you are so afraid of that they may lay bare all your secrets. Her eyes were brimming with oceans of internal turmoil and yet I could see a faint trace of understanding running in them. "Then why don't you?" she whispered, her eyebrows dancing in an unusually playful manner. Her feeble attempt at a smile failed to masquerade the pain she felt inside in anticipation of what she knew was coming.

"Its not that simple...", I argued as I felt a huge knot rise up my throat. Apparently all the things I had been practicing in my mind for the past week had not bestowed upon me the eloquence I had hoped they would. Thankfully the waiter appeared, giving me the opportunity to leisurely peruse the menu. She ordered a chocolate mousse while I made do with a double latte. When I could delay eye contact no longer, I looked up and found her mysteriously smiling at me.

'What the hell is she on about?' Apparently she read my thoughts as if on paper, for immediately she averted her gaze. But as she did so, I caught the pain resurfacing in those hazel eyes I once so much loved. 'I did it again!' I admonished myself.

Sighing heavily for the umpteenth time, I took her hand in mine. She was shivering slightly but the touch of my sweaty hand seemed to calm her. At length, she looked at me and I knew if I had to say something, this was the time.

"You are a wonderful person and I would like nothing more than to spend my whole life with you." I began, cringing inwardly on how cliche it sounded. "However I can't bring myself to do this to you. You deserve someone better and you have your whole life before you..." I immediately raised my hand to stifle her retort. "I know what you want to say and I understand that. But give it a few years' time and you will see my point."

The room seemed to have grown hotter and I vainly tried searching for the air conditioner to test my theory.

Failing in the search, I dragged my eyes back to her. She was broodily pushing around the remains of the mousse and I gave her credit for not breaking into tears. Personally I did'nt think I could handle any of that. However the damage was done and the rest of what was supposed to be an enjoyable evening became a complete drag.

At length she spoke, "So now what?"

"Well we'll always be friends and you'll be a very special one for me, you know that!" I said more to convince myself than her. With a slight nod she indicated what one could call forced acceptance and I knew that that was the end of it. Silently we paid the bill and left the place which would be etched in my memory forever.

Will you remember me?

When the cherries bloom
in a soft winter noon,
as you walk slow
on the fresh snow,
will you remember me?

When you sip the wine
in the bright sunshine,
after you've walked the aisle
wearing a benign smile,
will you remember me?

When your world falls apart
and you don't know where to start,
as warm tears slide down your cheek
and a person your eyes seek,
will you remember me?

When you sit by my side
and watch the years pass by,
as you place a white lily
and your fingers trace the R.I.P,
will you remember me?

How we are being screwed!!!

Well, have been on the recieving end for quite some time now... I really don't know why the idea of taking a screenshot had'nt occured to me before! Anyways, check this out...

1.The "FREE" download timing ends at 7:00 AM.

2.The current time is still 6:52AM.(I swear thats the actual time!)

3.And yet mysteriously we have been charged 10 bucks!!

UPDATE: As pointed out by my l'ill bro, I would like to make it clear that those 10MBs were difinitely not due to the 12-1AM timeframe.


Cry not, dear angel.

Some people live their whole lives in misery, believing that certain good things are not supposed to happen to them. Every once in a while, some of these inadvertently cross paths with a certain someone who makes them aware of things they thought they could never experience. Pirouetting under this bitter-sweet charm, they reach out for this person. Rarely, if ever, is this person also passionate about this strange ballet. Time goes on as before and eventually the subjects in question return to their initial melancholy self. Over time, their ballet skills either wither away or are forcibly erased from their concious self...

Then one day, coincidence brings the same two people at an intersection of paths and this time its the other one who wants to swing to the tunes of the music from the past. Not wanting to be the one responsible for torturing the other but at the same time unable to find the dancing shoes long lost, the subject tentatively takes the offered hand, hoping against hope that maybe the music will flow loud enough for both of them. Sadly it does not.

The subject prays for and desperately tries to remember the tune which once flowed so freely and unbeckoned for, surviving on a single strand of hope, a simple yet powerful two-syllable word- 'maybe'. Soon the nights become haunted and the days dreaded. Storm ensues and in a momentary pause, when everything else loses representation and meaning, the last twig snaps.

Finally they plead innocence and say, "Its all for the best!"

The best of me...

Hey people,

In my post of sketches I have made, I presented the ones which I think to be the better ones among the lot. Well, going through the whole bunch today I happened upon a piece which could not make the cut, but is by far the best the world of art has got from me till date. See for yourself:

Though the sketch as a whole did'nt turn out to be that promising, I just love the way these thighs gradually melt into the shadows, I mean the tone and shades over them are, well, quite realistic...don't you think ?...I sometimes can't believe I made it myself!



Mind tormented,
flesh torn apart.
Heart in deepest agony,
atmosphere dark.
Eyes wide open,
visibility naught.
Perilous landscape,
danger fraught.
Silver lining,
my soul sought.
In freezing waters,
a cuddly warmth.
I try to resist,
but tears drop.
Yet hope persists,
among cadaver rot.
Angelic beauty,
could never so maul.
Bless me once again,
O dear Lord!

Hey, look what I made:

Okay folks,

The artiste in me presents, 'le gala de magnifique'. Ladies and gentlemen, please feast your eyes:

TRENDSUP everyone!

Okies people,
A friend of a friend of mine has made this cute little website something on the lines of orkut.....well haven't really put it under the microscope yet, but it seemed decent and by what I have heard, apparently the photo security feature prevents anyone from copying and saving profile pictures! So you know what to do....go check it out!

Fast Birdie!

Got this great piece from here.

If you could...

If you could hear the way my heart beats
If you could listen to what my eyes say
If you could feel the way that I feel
If you could make my soul sway

If you could reveal the desires within you
If you could forget what others say
If you could be more passionate about me
If you could just believe what may

If you could live right in the moment
If you could somehow pave the way
If you could sense the evil within me
If you could still by my side stay

If you could see what I want for you
If you could shed tears for my sake
If you could just feel it within you
If you could understand my mind state


Hey people, Well, right now I am relishing the beautiful life at home and as my soul is not far removed from art, I decided to help my mum with some decorative items she was making. We had lots of old wedding invitation cards at our disposal and I must say I was pleased with the outcome.....please do give your comments too:


Eyes burning with passion,
lips sedated;
mind slave of fashion,
heart confiscated.

Swaggering catwalk,
feline smile;
lusty buttocks,
alluring canines.

Revealing jagger,
empress of time;
concealed dagger,
beauty divine.

Sweet juicy candies,
eternal lure;
innocent bystander,
lovingly yours.

Hellish mischief,
upon a humble pawn;
agonising pleasure,
does fate demand.

Invigorate thy amore,
feast upon mine;
but torment me no more,
virulent swine.

Take my vital fluid,
and suck me dry;
experience eternal mirth,
just let me die.

Sneak Peek Within

Clouds dark in the horizon
darker above
persistent darknesss enveloping
within and without
nothing obscure
yet eyeballs searching
unsure of everything
bigtime blackhole
bursting to explode
vile shards ripping
body and soul
suspended midair
but free to go
ear-splitting scary drone
and everywhere alone.

A farewell poem!


Blessed are those people
and merry are their days
‘cause handpicked they are
by God’s own grace
to dwell with angels
and drink divine wine
basking in his glory
playing in the ‘waterfall’ of life.

But beware mere mortals!
as things this good never last
wretched will be the hour
and broken thy heart
when the archangel
spreads out her wings
and just swoops past,
leaving you aghast.

So capture in your heart’s eye
the sublime beauty while it lasts
‘cause the days will be empty
and the nights dark
and yet you shall smile,
guided by her aura
our guiding light
to sweet paradise.

Beast Within !

There's an animal inside me. An animal that I feel I have been carrying for a long time. An animal that lies dormant, almost comatose, listening and waiting for me to provide it with a chance to manifest itself. I have to heed its calls and satisfy its hunger for if I don't, it starts eating me from within. And from experience, I have learnt that thats a situation I don't want to be in. All I can do is try to hold it in for as long as I can and then eventually let it out. Now that method seemed to work perfectly or me until recently, when I realised that with each outburst, its appetite is increasing. I fear that there will be a day when I would not be able to satisfy the monster any more and that would no doubt be the beginning of the end of me.

The last time it feasted, the monster's thirst was not quenched and it craved for more. Afraid that it would ruin my academic life, I rallied hard to suppress it. We fought through long days and longer nights. It took large chunks from my insides, larger than it had ever taken, and they burned in pain. I lurched this way and that, but how can one dodge a foe who is within? All I did, all I could do, was grit my teeth and persevere. At long, it subsided and I could live again. I had won! I salvaged whatever of myself I could find in the ruins of the battle and tried to start afresh. Alas! As the old saying goes, 'I had won the battle but I had lost the war'. The beast survived, while I was nothing but a broken mess.

I can't fight it anymore.

So friends, don't be surprised if you see me dancing in totally undanceable situations. Now you know why.


                                        -Sandeep Dhall

Ye nature, how were you created ?
You never said a word about it;
We play in your lap from birth to death,
But never come to know about it!

Did God ever cite to you,
How you would be;
Nature outside and nature within,
You never stop changing.

Annals of history say,
Nature doth change in human;
But what I see today,
Is so inhuman!

He smiles at some ,
To make impression;
But then prepares a plan ,
To take those for their destruction.

He laughs at friends,
To show the devil within;
And the opposite sex,
Falls after him.

Those are men,
Rightly called hypocrites;
As they criticize others,
And enjoy doing it.

But there are men,
Those who are right;
But naturally,
Are the most unpopular type.

Ye nature I plea,
Doth not play such a game;
Cuz it causes many,
To suffer the pain…..


                                         -Sandeep Dhall

Please Mama, I want to go to school,
Oh! Son but its really soon.
I said these words when I was a kid…

Looking at my seniors go to school,
Laughing, taking, discussing and what not did they do;
With their friends always on their side,
Even I did feel that sense of security at every point.

The school as an element,
And the stories about students, revolving around it;
With every passing year,
Having something new in store for me.

I always longed to be a senior,
Obviously to rule over the juniors;
Cuz at those very moments ,
I was unaware of my future.

The day came when I was a senior
Ready to go for proms , dates and party along;
With friends friends and friends,
Hovering all around.

When the days are numbered,
To the day of our separation;
One by one, we realized
That there was something called fate;
The fate that was written
To take us to a whole new alienated world.

At that moment I realized,
That “life should not be spent
counting the number of breaths one takes,
but the precious moments
that takes his breath away”;

Tears rolled down my eyes,
When I missed those days;
Thinking about those lost moments,
When I didn’t talk to my best friends out of rage.

I thought to close the worldly doors at my foot,
But I didn’t know that there were some to whom I meant so much;
Thus I rose to hold my friend’s hand,
Never to let go again.

From school to this shrewd world,
The journey is too long;
The journey started at school,
Unravels the world that is vast and wide;

If one constrains within himself
Never to come out of the shell,
One just passes the years,
And not live the life, that is all wonderful.

Poetic Associates

Hey there,
For all those people who are going ga-ga over my simple moronic verses...I present the work of a pro(if he choses to be). Beautiful lines from the heart and mind of an even more beautiful soul...the poems of my dear friend-Sandeep Dhall:

                                                  -Sandeep Dhall

When I look back the pages of 2002,
I still remember the day when I met you;
You were calm you were soft,
And as I know we both longed to talk.

Our friendship then grew like a tree in the spring,
With each new leaf to sing and say something;
Sometimes a wind that did not like the flower bloom,
Tried to shake so that it left its bosom;
But the bond of friendship was so tight,
That it never did allow the wind come inside.

Its been days where have you been?
The words are all gone, which time too has seen;
Staring at your face I see a past ,
Which still haunts me with an impact too vast!

The road where we split up,
Is paved with the things I didn’t say;
But what could I do,
So I stayed in my way.

I talked with strangers who didn’t feel my pain,
And passed on like rangers letting my pain flow in vain;
The past of which today I smile to think,
But those evergreen thoughts do really sting.

The words are all gone ,
The times been too long;
But its not too late to say,
I’m sorry to a friend.

I don’t know where to start,
As I have got so much to tell;
Maybe I’ll find a way,
Maybe you’ll help me;

Cuz friends like us should not be apart
And I’m sorry to a friend
Well now then don’t be a Brat.

You know you are bored beyond recovery when...

  • you check your orkut scrapbook every other minute from two different links for new scraps, even though you know that the Gtalk client you are logged onto will intimate you when, if ever, you get a scrapbook entry.

  • you publicly jump up and down with excitement when you think about someone you know.

  • you lie down so still that you actually hear your heart and think about the reasons why you were just jumping.

  • emotions fill you to the brim and you feel like exploding just to release them.

  • you pick up one task after other and get bored of each in about 7-9 seconds.

  • you shut down and restart your laptop multiple times just to see which one happens faster with no attempt to keep track of the time.

  • you lie with your ear to the laptop, listening to the sounds its processor makes.

  • you send missed calls to all your friends just to see who responds.

  • your media player playlist repeatedly alternates between slow love songs and heavy metal beats, none of which are being recorded by your mind.

What's happening to me?

I've changed. Lets face the fact. I am not that cute, chubby, mama's pet kinda boy no more. Well at least, most of me is not. Though I have people complaining left and right about it but I believe at some level they too are glad because in the bigger picture, that's what is supposed to happen. Come to think of it, its quite similar to that of an insect in terms of the fact that both of our species have to shed their protective cocoons and become what we are in the world. I believe it is the time for me to spread out my wings and try them out for the first time.

Childhood, and for that matter teenage too, is a wonderful place to be. But it would be insane to dwell in it for too long for then it would lose its charm. It seems to be life's irony that the most important phases of our lives are also the most carefree of them all. Maybe thats what makes it so important. Make a swing for anything and everything, revel on the hits and learn from the misses. Maybe thats the time for experimenting and finding out who you are expected to be and who you really are. Parents probably play the single most influential role in these formative years of a individual and I believe each and every one of them do their job as they deem best. Now I am in no place to comment on that side of the court. All I want to say is that accepting that perfection is non-existant is the closest one can get to it and I am glad my parents did what they did.

Coming back to me, in my childhood I was a person I no longer associate with myself. I was, in a manner of speaking, too good. Don't misunderstand this as a complaint. No. The person I was was perfectly normal. In fact, I still meet these kind of people everyday and everywhere. But it simply was'nt me! Now thanks to the aforemontioned phases, I seem to be getting a faint idea of who I really am. I understand that I have been a constant cause of worry for those who hold me dear and I apologise for the suffering they went through. I also know that this pain may continue until they accept me as I am, and not what I was. For those profoundly jolted by this piece, relax. The two me's I keep talking about are not that different. Think of it as a central me surrounded by various extentions. I have just re-adjusted and re-alligned some of my extentions. In the process, some traits were left behind and some were tinkered with while some new ones were picked up. Maybe this is what evolution looks like in microscopic view.

Okay people, I have been officially brainstorming over this piece for 1 hour and 4 minutes and the fire in my belly has somewhat simmered down. More on 'me' later.

Woeful Lamentations

I open my eyes
and they see
your heart rife
with deception and vice.

I allow my ears
and they hear
your sweetened lies
which I now fear.

I try to breathe
in the foul air
reeking with
your sounds of despair.

My lips yearn
to break free
to be able to reveal
the real me.

My heart beats
in the scathing heat
craving for
desires unfulfilled.

My hands reach out
trying to sneak out
from this cage of yours
that I am imprisoned in.

I tread softly
with my bleeding feet
on the thorny path
that you left for me.

I try to reason
with my shackled mind
attempting to deal with
the aftermath you left behind.

I try to constrain
my impulsive rage
when I feel your trace
in any embrace.

I see shades of gray
when I see a body sway
moving on the floor
the ultimate way.

You leave me searching
for the girl I once loved
for the smile I was denied
for the reason why I cried.

A Love Poem, I hope.

Hey people...

A very happy though belated Valentine's Day to all!

Though it seems to be so cliche, I desperately wanted to put up a so-called 'love poem' here on V-day. However a big occupational hazard with this side of the moon is that these things just come to you, you can't call it. Elaborating using my English teacher's words: "This is the time when Muse decides to descend upon you." You just can't do anything about it. So the day came and went with my blog drier than a mirage. However felt a bit poetic today and willed myself on to scribble this piece. I confess it not being my best till date, yet it seems to have come out rather better than usual. So without further ado, let me present...


Look at a rose,
and you shall see me.

Not in the petals,
cause thats your lips.
Seductively beautiful,
yet serenely pure.

Not in the sepals,
cause thats your smile.
Radiating outwards,
beauty redefined.

Not in the core,
cause thats your heart.
Deeply protected,
yet room for all.

But in the thorns,
right by your side.
Though not ornate,
yet with you always.

Atefeh Rajabi Sahaaleh (1988 - August 15, 2004)

Dusk settled in as the sun prepared once again to dip below the horizon and provide a well-earned respite to the harried people of the small roadside town. People scuttled along to their respective homes, some carrying necessary groceries. Fine dust mingled with multiple streams of appetizing smells wafting from a plethora of incommodious cooking spaces giving the air a unique blend. Silence lay heavy over the scene inspite of a multitude of children playfully chiding each other in a peculiar game they were playing while skinny street dogs rummaged a nearby garbage dump. A faint drone could be caught by the ear if one was inclined to do so. Within five minutes, a medium-sized crane came to a rumbling stop at the town square. As if warned by their innate sixth sense, both the children and the dogs scampered off to their respective shelters. Night fell...

A few poultry cocks crowed as golden flagbearers began streaming the skies, warning the nocturnal of the impending sunrise. A mass of townsfolk spread out in the town square, surrounding the metal beast with a sea of silent cloaks. A speeding four-wheeler came to an abrupt halt halfway down the road. A young girl with a voluptuous body and a piercing gaze, followed by two sullen-faced women alighted and started towards the center of attraction. On seeing the popular local beauty, the young men started to cheer and clap. A few extravagant ones also started taking pictures. Disregarding their jibes, the girl reached the crane and climbed the rear platform. A brooding silence spread over the crowd in anticipation of a speech. She apologized to everyone for any harm she might have inflicted and thanked God for giving her a shot at life.

Finally the noose was slipped around her neck and the crane lifted her to heights higher than those achieved by anyone living....

Her crime- She was raped.

If you think this was bad, what happened in real life was much more unjust. The whole story is pieced together in a documentary- "Execution of a teenage girl".

Warning: The documentary below is 45 minutes long! Get the BBC story here.

My lost friend, found at last!

Hey guys,

Considering objectively, if possible, I claim myself to be a non-traditionist. And whenever there comes an option between classical and western stuff, I always find myself inclining towards the latter. Unfortunately for me, this kind of option rarely presents itself before me. Same was the case when I chose "Instrumental music" as my work experience subject back at school. All my guitar-wielding, head-banging dreams came to an abrupt crash when I was informed that the only option I had was between sitar and tabla.

"Fine!", I exclaimed and threw my hands up. And what began as a somewhat, well not forced, but rather accidental involvement rapidly grew into a fondness hard to put down in words. Now I am not a bad student of music, actually going by the feedback I would rate myself as above average, not much but above nonetheless. I participated in many school functions, instrumental competitions etc. and won many accolades. Actually I would put it down as a result of lack of competition as my strings never gave the same sounds as my ma'am's. I understand that I am raising the bar way over requirements but I really had no one else to compare with. In retrospection, I consider those two years as the most enjoyable learning experience I ever had.

Sigh! Now in college...though I think most people won't laugh at me, well at least not on my face, if I start wielding the instrument again, I don't think it to be possible. Even if I am able to take some time out of my already hectic schedule, I don't have anyone to teach me. I am also ignoring the possibility of being kicked out of my room by my roomie, speaking of whom I would like to acknowledge that it is because of him I sat down to scribble this write-up. He was listening to some, well music if you may say so, and there was this piece being played on a sitar. By coincidence, I entered the room as the piece was just starting and I swear, what I felt would give being received by my family a good run for its money. Felt like meeting a long lost friend unexpectedly in a village fair - with silence all around and just the two of us and nothing to disturb us. It was then and there I said to myself, this has to go down in my blog and so here it is.

Until next time.

Details about sitar in this wikipedia page.

A Decade Past...

Long days stretch ahead as I look out of the window and sigh at the merciful thoughts of continuous increments in these kind of days gone by. Apart from the deriliously hectic schedule set by the 'do all for the best' people at college, there is precious little left to be put into these days. No wonder in such an environment, even the darkest of all beacons seem to be like a merry blast of warm sunshine. One such craze spreading like bushfire among friends is one of the latest from the arsenal of EA Sports- Cricket 2007.

Now I used to play the game in the good ol' school days, my mom was really never happy about it. "Can you find anything more lethargic?" Her tirade was unending. Well either her iterations etched the words on my subconcious self, or now I really do see her point, the culmination being that I no longer count myself among the followers of the game, let alone being a fan! But as they say, once a lion, always a lion. When everyone around me started going ga-ga about the game, I decided to give it a shot myself.

The game though moderately enjoyable, seems to be riding upon the wave of despair created by the thunderous placement & training cell of our college. One can see that people have worked hard on it, yet you cannot help but notice some glaring fallouts from the 'turf, willow and leather' form of the game. And I would dare to say that these don't look very lucrative in a country driven to the levels of insanity over the issue.

After playing the game, I kinda drifted down a reverie of old thoughts. Meandering through these often familiar streets, I gasped when a realisation hit me. Before Cricket 2007, my last sojourn in this sector would have to be when we had bought our first desktop back home...Cricket 97. Oh my gosh! Ten real human years have actually past...hmm I guess I'll have to go to bed today with a headache and the memoirs I have just discovered to ponder upon.


PS.What I would like to know is what, if anything, the guys at EA sports are doing about the peculiarities their games have trademarked when being played on a laptop?


Cannibal taste buds!

The news that shocked the nation. Dubbed by the media as 'India's darkest crime ever', the inhuman act of abduction and murder of innocent and young bodies by the two accused has caught the nation unawares. The details remain blurry but what has surfaced is enough for people to proclaim "What kind of a vile creature would perform such a hineous act?" As skeletons after skeletons are being extracted from the slush in the backyard of the accused and the yet uncertain motivational hand swings from organ trade to sexual molestation to cannibalism, anger and disbelief is rife in the heart and minds of the common people. Details of this ghastly crime can be found here.

The media, meanwhile, is having a hay day with stories of past serial killers, dug from the deep archives of yesteryear's newspapers. One interesting piece I came across is the taste of human flesh as documented by a New York Times reporter William Buehler Seabrook, for purely research purposes:

"It was like good, fully developod veal, not young, but not yet beef. It was not like any other meat I have ever tasted....It was mild, good meat with no other sharply defined or characteristic taste such as for instance, goat, high game, and pork have. The steak was slightly tougher than prime veal, a little stringy, but not too tough or stringy to be agreeable edible."

mmm...sounds tasty, doesn't it?


I was reading the Times of India, when my eyes fell on an interesting article which was shouting out to me: "Put me up on your blog for Christ's sake!". I had no other option but to oblige and I do so with no regrets whatsoever.

"Gahlor Ghati (Gaya): Over four decades ago, a frail landless farmer got hold of a chisel and a hammer and decided to change the face of this village nestled in the rocky hills of Gaya. Dashrath Manjhi tore open a 300-feet high hill to create a one-km passage.

Manjhi knew it would be easier to move a mountain than an apathetic government. He knew writing to the powers-that-be would only leave the hill tied in red tape. Instead, Manjhi, then in his early 20s, took up a chisel and hammered at the rocks for 22 years.

This feat, part of local folklore now, stemmed from Manjhi's love for his wife. For, when she slipped off the rocks while getting food for him as he worked in a field beyond the hill and broke her ankle, it became a burning passion to tame the formidable hills that virtually cut his village off from civilisation....

....He shifted his hut close to the hill so he could work all day and night, chipping away, little by little. "I did not even bother to eat," he says.

With most of the cultivable lands and shops across the hill, villagers had to cross it many times a day, braving dangers.

It was after 10 years that people began to notice a change in the shape of the hill. Instead of a defiant rockface, the hill seemed to have a depression in the middle. Climbing it became a little easier. "All those who had called me mad began to quietly watch me work. Some even chipped in," he recollects.

In 1982, twenty-two years after he had started out, Manjhi walked through a clear flat passage - about 16-feet wide - to the other side of the hill...."

Literary review.

Hey people!
The past week was at home and was cleaning out my room when I came across a memorable piece of paper. I thought why not make a soft copy and so here I am.

Back in school I got a couple of months off after board exams. I was totally into reading back then(not that now am not), and thus kept a track of what I read that it is:

  1. Oliver Twist - Charles Dickens (Abridged)
  2. King Solomon's mines - Sir Rider Haggard (Abridged)
  3. Treasure Island - Robert Lewis Stevenson (Unabridged)
  4. Silas Marner - George Elliot (Unabridged)
  5. The memoirs of Sherlock Homes - Sir Arthur Conan Doyle (Collection)
  6. Twenty thousand leagues under the sea - Jules Verne (Unabridged)
  7. Frankestien or The Modern Prometheus - Mary Shelley (Unabridged)
  8. The first men in the moon - H.G. Wells (Unabridged)
  9. The hound of the Baskervilles - Sir Arthur Conan Doyle (Abridged)
  10. The Time Machine - Herbert George Wells (Unabridged)
  11. The Professor - Charlotte Bronte (Unabridged)
  12. Night of the Leopard - Ruskin Bond (Abridged)
  13. The War of the Worlds - H.G. Wells (Unabridged)
  14. Dracula - Bram Stoker (Unabridged)

More posts coming soon!